One Last Breath
by YinYang Warrior
Summary: The battle was over. Aslan had killed the Witch. The good had triumphed. I was sure of it. I saw no more of the Witch’s warriors. But the Witch had taken me down with her.


**A/N: My first attempt at a Narnia fiction. I really tried hard on it. It took me awhile to choose a scene to write about, but the one where Edmund almost died nearly made me cry, so I chose that one. Near the end of this fiction, I change a few things and add in extra lines. Also, there are NO PAIRINGS in this.**

**Disclaimer: Narnia belongs to C.S. Lewis, and I sure as hell ain't him.**

**Thanks to: Megz McGizzle (she should know why)**

One Last Breath

I lied flat on my back, my body tense.

The battle was over. Aslan had killed the Witch. The good had triumphed. I was sure of it. I saw no more of the Witch's warriors.

But the Witch had taken me down with her.

No, I wasn't dead…yet. The Witch had plunged her blade deeply into my gut, though. I was positive that I wouldn't live to see tomorrow.

The problem was…I didn't want to die.

I wasn't afraid of death. I just didn't want to die. I'd be leaving behind Peter, Susan, and Lucy. My mother had sent us away to keep us safe, not so that we could become the four children destined to save a world we had never even heard of before. Not so I could betray my siblings and wind up thrown in an ice dungeon. Not so we would fight in a war.

Not so any of us could die.

That's when a question struck me. How were the others? Susan and Lucy hadn't even been there for the battle. The last thing I had heard from Peter was a scream of pain. Were they okay? Were they sharing my fate?

I pushed the horrible thought from my mind, grasping the grass beneath me tightly with one hand.

My breathing was ragged and uneven. I could hardly keep my eyes open. I doubted I'd last the hour.

I was afraid of many things. The Witch. My mistakes. Myself. It amazed me that the prospect of death didn't frighten me. But…dying alone did.

I wished that someone could be there with me. Peter, Susan, Lucy…hell, even Mr. Tumnus would suffice.

I saw a small shadow approach, and I cursed myself for my wish as I saw the Witch's minion, the Dwarf, begin to approach me, his axe raised.

Suddenly, there was a cry of, "Edmund!"

An arrow embedded itself in the Dwarf's chest, and it collapsed, dead.

The next thing I knew, three faces came into my vision. Peter, Susan, and Lucy. Relief flooded me. They were alive and okay.

Well…maybe not okay.

They all looked panicked and worried. I had no doubt that those emotions were for me.

I tried to tell them not to worry. That I was glad that they were okay, that I wouldn't be dying alone. But I couldn't. The pain was just too much. My mouth refused to obey me.

My eyelids were beginning to droop, but struggled to keep them open, just to assure my siblings that I hadn't left them yet.

I watched with pure confusion as Lucy pulled a small bottle of a strange red liquid from the holster around her waist. What was that stuff? I had seen it before, but I had never thought much of it.

My vision was beginning to go blurry. My lungs felt like they were being crumpled up into little balls, and my throat was tightening. My heart felt constricted. Breaths were harder to draw.

I now knew that I wouldn't even last the minute.

I just wished that I didn't feel lightheaded. So many people said that, right before you die, you feel renewed, and a warmth took you over.

To hell with those people. I felt old as the sun, and I was freezing cold.

A drew in one more breath, knowing very well that it could be my last.

Lucy let a drop of the liquid fall into my mouth.

It tasted bittersweet, but it was a small relief for my parched throat. I felt my eyes close. My windpipe felt clogged. It was now too hard to breathe, and there was no use in trying. My body was too weak to move, and it grew still.

Faintly, I heard Lucy begin sobbing. My nearly blind eyes saw Susan looking at Peter with despair written over all of her features. Tears welled up in Peter's eyes as he looked down at me.

After a moment, I saw darkness. Suddenly, though, I was rushed back, and I could clearly see Lucy, Peter, and Susan, all of whom were now crying.

My body had new strength. I coughed slightly, air rushing into my burning lungs. I tried to sit up, but Susan's arms held me down as if to say, 'Don't use up your energy.'

I heard cries of relief from my siblings. I opened my eyes fully, looking at them. It was then that I realized that Susan had removed my helm.

Peter pulled me into a tight hug. "When will you learn to do as your told?" he said, giving a decent attempt at humor.

I smiled as I breathed in deeply, grateful to be able to do so. I returned Peter's hug, and then I felt two more pairs of arms wrap around me.

All four of us were in a group hug.

Susan ruffled my jet black hair. Peter buried his face in the crook of my neck, still crying from the aftermath of such horrible fear. Lucy's hug was tightest of all.

"Okay, okay, guys, I need to breathe," I said. They seemed to take this seriously, all drawing away so fast that I fell flat on my back. I sat again, looking at them with raised eyebrows. "I'm joking," I pointed out.

Peter blinked in surprise as Lucy blushed slightly and Susan mouthed 'Oh'.

I grinned at them and just had to laugh.

It had been an entire day since our coronation. It was nighttime now. I was walking the halls, unable to sleep.

When I turned the corner, I suddenly ran into someone. Peter. "Couldn't sleep either, huh?" I murmured as we both stood. Peter was still very shaken from my near death experience.

Peter shook his head. "No." He seemed like he wanted to say something more.

"What's with you, Peter?" I asked.

Suddenly, I found myself in a hug. "Ed, promise me you won't do something so idiotic again," Peter said. What surprised me was that he was pleading, begging even. I knew he was referring to my getting stabbed.

I pushed away from Peter. "I thought I was on my last breath," I admitted. "I'm lucky and happy that you all were there. Peter, I had to stop the Witch, and I hope that you aren't blaming yourself for not noticing her coming towards you."

I seemed to have hit the money.

"What if I had just seen her?" Peter asked. "You never would've been stabbed!"

I rolled my eyes. "It isn't your fault. I chose to disobey you and attack the Witch. Someone needed to destroy that spear thingy, and I needed to redeem myself. Simple as that."

After I shrugged, I smiled at him.

Peter sighed, looking at his feet for a moment, then back up at me. "Just promise me you won't do something like that again," he pleaded.

My smiled turned to a grin.

"Sorry, Pete, but that's just one promise that I can't keep."


End file.
